


Paradise, or Close Enough for Government Work.

by Trista_zevkia



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M, Yule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Face is a morning person, Murdock stays up late. Face likes neutrals, Murdock wants color. Living together is hard work when you're opposites, but sometimes things just work out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise, or Close Enough for Government Work.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Para](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Para).



Jazz is disharmonious notes that flow together to make music. I don’t remember when the Jazz first showed up in our little team, but I do know it stuck because it was so appropriate. And in amidst that disharmonious collection of notes is one moment of clarity, of epiphany. The world falls away and everything important is right there.

Hannibal finds that moment when all the planning and what ifs in his brain silence, as he sees the plan working. Or not working. Either way, Hannibal gets to simply feel for that moment instead of analyzing. BA pushes his body in much the same way, looking for that moment of Jazz. He’s even taken to punishing other people’s bodies in his search for his answers. How far can you push the human body before it breaks, when that’s all you think you are, a body? Poor BA forgets about his soul and skills with machines, thinking as little of himself as the rest of the world does.

Clarity is easiest for me, perhaps because it’s the only thing that keeps me, well, not sane exactly. It keeps me from falling completely into the blackness, letting the horror swallow me whole. When men with guns are shooting at your team as they race toward you, and there’s nothing you can do but watch them run, praying they reach the chopper before the bullets reach them.

You want to fire back, but that would risk hitting them, you want to move closer, but the trees or ground won’t let you. So you wait and pray, and in blinding clarity realize that they are the totality of your life. When they reach the chopper, you want to hug them all, and pull one in for a kiss and foreplay, but now’s your time to act. To put the chopper in the sky and keep them all from dying.

The desire to hug can wait. The desire to kiss must never see the light of day, though I’m not sure why. Against regs, but why? Because men in love with each other will fight even harder to save and protect each other. Why is that a bad thing? They might be used against each other if captured? That worked for friends and brothers just as well as lovers. Stupid regs, but as I stand here and watch Face sleep, I realize we’re not on any base or under the MP’s watchful eyes.

All well and good, the only problem is Face. Sniper, conman, he’s dangerous because he watches, predicts what people will say or do, and plans ahead, getting them to say and do what he wants. Or shoots them when they get where he wants them, whatever. He sees moments of clarity coming, and steps aside, doffs his hat and avoids the clarity like a gentleman. You can’t force epiphanies on a person, but you can hint and be ready when they have one.

I snuggled into the bed with Face and he wakes up. I pretend not to notice, and quickly slide into pretending to sleep. I make sure I don’t notice him watching, confused. Finally, he gets comfortable and tries to go back to sleep. It’s almost four in the morning, so he won’t be in bed long. I don’t care as I plan on simply enjoying what time I have with him. I’m as surprised as anyone when sleep claims me.

HBAMF

The first time HM crawled into bed with me, it woke me up and made me paranoid for the rest of the night. I wondered what strange thing was going through his mind now, dust bunnies only attacked single sleepers? But this was HM Murdock, who was above such things as rules and physics. And, apparently, the natural defensive of a lifetime learned in sleeping lightly. The next time HM slept with me, I woke up wrapped around him.

I’d delicately pulled his limbs out of my way, used great care and concern to get out of bed without disturbing him. Stupid, really, because lately I’d found nothing woke him if he was really asleep. HM rarely slept, didn’t seem to care if he ever did, but I thought he needed to sleep more. A schedule, such as the rest of the world used. I’d even drugged him a few times, claiming it was for the good of the team. When, apparently, all I needed to do was sleep alone in a bed big enough for two.

Not my preferred position, by any stretch of the imagination. I much preferred to engage in a few physical activities before sleeping with someone. While I wouldn’t mind trying some of those activities with any of the guys, not that I’d ever admit to that, but the thing with HM could get real emotional, real quick. I was already having trouble falling asleep without HM muttering around nearby, without knowing where he was and that he was safe.

I volunteered to share rooms, tents and anything else with HM, just to help me sleep better. BA was relieved, as it kept him from having to put up with HM. Hannibal just looked at me, as if the notes in his personal symphony were telling him something I couldn’t interpret. Much as I want to, I’d never understand the way Hannibal’s mind worked. So I put up with crazy, hyperactive HM all day, all night long, just for a few hours of perfect sleep.

Sometimes my dating interfered with this, so I dated even more in an effort to get rid of this strange concern for one particular teammate. A little tired and cranky from the results of that experiment, I’m staring at a week of blissful nights of sleep. I got Hannibal a room at the only hotel in this tiny Newfoundland town, and BA got a room over a garage. He’d offered to fix the lift for the cars, earning the eternal gratitude of the entire island and their work trucks.

So that left the small cabin for me and Murdock. Two bedrooms, but they weren’t both going to be used. Close off one, so we only had to heat the rest of the rooms. Had a working fireplace and some wood, plus propane tanks and a full pantry, so it was just the two of us on the run from the government and out of their reach. While waiting out a blizzard that separated us from the rest of the world.

The cabin is wonderfully warm, the snow falling gently around us, covering the grey stuff already out there. I snuggle into my sheets, smiling as I fall asleep to the sound of HM puttering around.

HBAMF

Face told me to close off the second bedroom, totally unaware that this was the same as asking or expecting me to sleep with him. It’s progress of a sort, it encourages me. I went to make sure the spare room’s window was closed, even taped a blanket over the window. Checked the closet, just because I’m curious like that, and found a treasure trove of Christmas decorations. I made a plan the second I saw what was in the closet, so that was left was waiting for Face to fall asleep.

After he goes to his room, I start putting them up. It’s pushing five in the morning when I finish, and get into bed. Face will wake up within the hour, as he’s such a morning person, wanting a neat and predictable home life. I’m sorry I won’t be awake to see his face, but I can’t remember that last time I slept, and I’m tired.

HBAMF

It’s brilliantly white outside when I force my eyes open, and find HM wrapped around me. I get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom, finding it’s still brilliantly white in here. Washing my face wakes me up, so I can look around properly. The bedroom and bathroom are covered in white Christmas lights, neatly and tastefully hung. Not at all what I expected from HM, but still very beautiful. Silly to do a bedroom in Christmas decorations, but I’m grinning indulgently as I head for the kitchen.

I stand in the doorway for a long while, just trying to understand what I’m seeing. Multicolored Christmas lights dance around the walls and furniture. Big, old fashioned outdoor lights turn the kitchen into something warm and slightly radioactive. Ornaments have been used to form the shape of Christmas tree on the wall across from the fire place, and I can’t be sure from here, but I think one of my pictures has been used for the angel at the top. This is what I expected from HM, crazy and chaotic, approaching painfully beautiful.

Turning around, I look back into the bedroom we’re sharing. Elegantly beautiful, an ultramodern Donna Reed effort. Calm and restful after the chaos of the rest of the cabin. An effort for HM, who liked to be up and awake and doing, who loved bright and cheerful. He could have done the whole place in multicolored, but he didn’t.

He made the room normal, for me.

Even in his unique mind, there couldn’t be any other reason. HM made an effort to make me happy. I turn to him, realizing he’s wearing a Santa hat while he sleeps. Why didn’t I ever look at him before? I meant, why didn’t I look at him when I got up, but the Freudian slip is enough that I see everything. I’ve never looked at HM because it would mean I had to admit that it wasn’t a good night’s sleep I wanted with him in my bed. I wanted everything I could get from him, as I was completely in love with him. He was in love with me, or else he wouldn’t have made such an effort to make me happy.

A few steps over and I kneel on the bed beside him. He doesn’t stir, but I have to see him. I pull back the blankets, pull up his Grinch t-shirt, trail a finger over the scars scattered on his torso. He moves his arm, putting it on the pillow under his head. He’s smiling in his sleep, unaware of how exposed he is. I could hurt him so easily, kill him if I wanted to. As expressive as he is awake, nothing is hidden when he’s asleep, so I can watch pleasure make him smile as I lightly stroke his body.

When he moans, I look to where my hand is, caressing his left hip. I do it again, and move down to his inner thighs. He murmurs my name, and I’m staring at his lips, his closed eyes, so I don’t get to see his erection start. I bump it when I go to bring my hand back up to touch his face. I turn to look at the hardness tenting his pajama pants and miss when he comes awake. I sure do miss a lot when it comes to this man.

“Face?”

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” I offer, trying to look away but the tent in his pants has me hypnotized.

“Guess I was having one of those dreams.” He offers in a sleepy voice, covering his erection with his Santa hat.

I start to giggle, but it grows into a laugh. HM sits up, patting my back with concern, as if I’m choking. This makes me laugh until I can’t breathe properly, and I lay on the bed to help me calm down. HM sits up and looks at me, wondering if he should call Hannibal or something. I have to suck in air so I can talk to him.

“HM, I’d decorate a house in crazy just to make you happy.”

His face breaks out in a joyful expression, as if I’d just given him his own fleet of aircraft. “Really?”

“Just like I’d find a place for the two of us to be together for a week. I could have talked the realtor into staying with me, he was very interested.” HM’s happy expression wavers at the revelation that the realtor was a man, so I push ahead. “I’d rather spend a week having sex with you, the man I love.”

HM’s moving faster than I can follow, pouncing on my prone form. He’s pulling off my silk pajamas, running his tongue through my belly button. Not normally one of my preferred places for a little licking, but it does a number on me. I’m arching up into his touch, hard and ready before I know it. He does move, but not to my hardness. He’s latched onto my nipples, and he’s still dressed.

I can’t pin his squirming self down long enough to pull off his clothes, so I pull his erection out of his fly. That gives me some leverage as he drives me insane, touching me everywhere but where I need him too. I’d like to think I’m giving him a good handjob, but I’m pretty sure I’m just hanging onto it for dear life. He’s so enthusiastic, and good at this. I’ve never even seen him date anyone I didn’t throw his way, so I don’t know why this is so good, but it’s overwhelming me. The few guys I’ve been with had a better understanding of where to touch me, but nothing like this.

“What?” I hear myself ask, voice deep with lust and need. I’m not even sure what I’m asking, but I do know why I can’t form a complete sentence. HM knows, HM understand, because he’s crazy like that.

He pauses, stops everything he’s doing to me, which is such a jackass thing to do. “This is what it’s like to have sex with someone you love.”

And he stays still, forcing me to understand, forcing me to find the words. “First time for everything.”

A smile, and he lays down on me to kiss me. A fantastic, mind blowing kiss that distracts me, so when he swirls his hips and erection against mine, it’s too much and I come, shouting into his mouth. When my eyes open at long last, he’s lying beside me, almost asleep. The white lights of the bedroom make his body glow, while the colored lights through the doorway give him a crazy halo.

No, not crazy. A different halo, which is perfect for the angel it’s around. Later, there will be complications, but for now, it’s just us here. Finally, at long last, we’ve found a way that will let us be together. Without schedules, without the world, it’s just us, and it’s perfect.


End file.
